The Traveler's Gift
by Kayzar117
Summary: A hunter teaches a young guardian about the light within him and how he can unlock his full potential.
1. Part 1

"The Traveler's Gift is the ability to project your internal light onto the battlefield as a weapon. Some call this their 'Ability' or their 'Super'. Everyone has one but some can take a long time to find it."

The light of the campfire spluttered as the barest of breezes blew sand across the embers. Garrett became silent and reached for his helmet, preparing to adorn it should the Martian winds become hospitable. This was the first time in weeks that the winds had died down and they were enjoying the cool night air on their skin. The dunes slid as their peaks were shaped by the gusts. The wind at the foothills died down and Garrett relaxed, setting his helmet down next to him. He turned back to face the young titan who sat opposite him.

"Now, we are beings forged of light. The Traveler's Gift is the physical manifestation of that light. This gift is a guardian's most powerful tool. No two are exactly alike because each is special to every individual."

The hunter grew quiet as he saw the intense thought behind the eyes of his student. The Titan, Lars, joined his fireteam two weeks ago. Normally, Garrett chose to journey alone but he took a liking to this young one. Lars had only been brought back as a guardian four months ago. Though he was a titan, he did not share the qualities that most titans admired. Bold bravery, strength, and pig-headedness were not traits that Lars held, and so he stood apart from the others. He did not fit in. It was for that reason that Garrett decided to teach him.

"Every guardian must find his or her gift on their own. It is not something that can be taught or bought. It has to be earned. Warlocks, for example, spend years studying the light and how it interacts with different forms of energies. They master key techniques in order to manipulate this energy until they eventually gain mastery over it. Hunters go looking for their gift on the frontier. They spend countless hours tracking their prey and countless more listening to the sounds the universe makes. Eventually, like yin and yang, those two practices form a balance that allows control over the light."

"…And what about titans?" the youth suddenly blurted out.

Garrett looked up, startled. Lars had barely spoken since their ships had left the tower weeks ago. That was part of the reason that he was an acceptable companion. Garrett smiled.

"Titans are a special case. Warlocks and hunters spend time trying to find enlightenment. A Titan's gift always manifests when they are in the greatest need of it. In some ways that gives them the closest connection to the Traveler's light. This power always comes in defense of mankind. Acts of valor and strength mean nothing. A titan's super is an act of sacrifice on behalf of the people they defend. They are the hand of the Traveler, acting instinctively for humanity's protection."

Lars sat back in frustration, but he kept his feelings to himself.

"Waiting is never easy Titan, but you'll get your chance to prove yourself soon enough."


	2. Part 2

The world spun underneath him. He kicked upward, completing his aerial somersault. Hanging upside down, his hand-cannon glowing with gold fire, he aimed at the back of the cabal's head and fired.

For most warriors the shield of a phalanx was a problematic obstruction. However, for a skilled hunter, it made the perfect spring-board for acrobatic combat. Garrett especially enjoyed seeing how many airborne headshots he could chain together before touching the ground. Calling forth his golden gun at the most opportune moment he would fell a whole line of the beasts before they could even roar in disbelief.

He and Lars had stumbled upon this pack of cabal just north of the Rubicon Wastes near the city of Freehold. Though initially they thought the group to be a lone patrol, they soon found out that it was the scouting party for a large troop movement. The Army of Wayward Souls, a unit of the Dust Giants, flooded the valley where they stood. The troop movement was a strategic move led by General Gah'Jura, a commander notorious for personally dismembering any guardian who got in the way of his war with the Vex.

Wave after wave of enemies rushed them, their armor clanking in the sandy Martian air. Lines of phalanxes locked their shields together as legionaries used their jump packs to launch themselves high above the battlefield.

The pair fell into their stride: Garrett dancing through the enemies, laughing as they fell one by one before him, and Lars mopping up the distracted stragglers from his position on a nearby ridge. The bodies began to pile up amongst the dunes. The sound of compressed air leaking from the Cabal's ruptured atmo-suits wheezed over the battlefield as rifles reloaded.

A low hum began to drown out the grunts and roars of the Cabal on the plains below Lars. Suddenly, a harvester burst out over the horizon. It flew low and fast over the mountainous dunes surrounding them, suddenly turning towards the two guardians. Garrett bolted. He threw himself behind a mangled Cabal shield as a barrage of rockets hit him. The shield took the damage, but the weight of the impact launched him backward through the air. He collided against the base of the ridge and fell to his knees.

Though he was winded he struggled to his feet. He swung his shoulder down, releasing his rocket launcher from the strap on his shoulder. The compact cylinder expanded in is hands. Large barrels protruded from both ends and a hand grip popped from the middle of the weapon next to the targeting system. He hefted the launcher up, popping a fist-sized rocket off, and slid it into the barrel. The round was designed to blaze white-hot and bore through the armor of a vehicle before detonating. The plan, of course, was to fire this slug right into the cockpit of the ship, sending it crashing to the ground. The plan would have worked perfectly had the sound of machine gun fire not interrupted it. The hull-mounted gun charged and spewed its violent payload at Garrett. The hunter fell back, landing hard on the ground. His blood matched the red Martian sand so perfectly it was as though he hadn't bled at all.


End file.
